Iodoform
by curry-llama
Summary: Peter Parker was raised in Hydra. Spider was a Hydra special operative. Maybe deep down inside there was a hero, but Peter counted every action, every order he had ever carried out, and it judged him as a villain. Warning for the occasional gore, swearing, and generally adult themes.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: White Walls

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**Oh my god I read through this chapter like 5 times before posting. It's been nearly a year since I wrote anything so excuse me if my writing is absolute trash. XD**

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White walls, iodoform, disinfectant, blood, steel, pine trees: this was the scent and sight he woke up to every morning. For a long while he was certain he wouldn't get used to it, to the minimalist cleanliness of the facility, or even the oddly chaotic routine of his own. For people who believed in controlling with a mixture of terror and psychotics, they certainly did enjoy the methodological approach to things. Peter didn't know when he had begun thinking of his situation in introspective. It wasn't like it had ended in any way. It was continuing much the same, if not worse than it had before. Maybe he was becoming numb to the pain, although they had done their jobs and a part of him recoiled like whiplash at their threats. Pain was not something one could easily get used to.

His room was white. That was how he would describe it. So pristinely white. His small bed was white, his _walls _were white, his toilet was white, his towels were white. It was made for function, nothing was just there for pleasure. To Peter it was soulless like the rest of the facility.

"Patient Spider, report to bay 5"

Almost like clockwork he got up and found his body moving. There were no guards to lead him, no eyes to keep him in check, just pure obedience… and a nano chip in his neck threatening to put him down. Peter wondered if this is what it felt like to be a dog, beckoning to its master's every whim. The thought put him in a sour mood since he quite like dogs.

The winding facility may have looked much the same down every corridor, but Peter knew the differences by now. Each door was automated with a sensory scanning device, and each device was labelled a different number, probably to help out whatever poor evil electrician who needed to do routine checks on it. Peter saw the man come by down a few times, looking largely like the most normal thing down here. The man had dark black hair, shortly cropped, a rather blank face, bright blue eyes that darted around every few seconds and quickly analysed information at a rapid rate.

Peter acquiesced that maybe the man wasn't so normal after all.

"Tommy," he greeted, taking a precious minute to address the man.

"Hmmm… Spider, why aren't you moving along?" the man asked in his signature croaky voice.

"You're more interesting," Peter replied with a frown.

"Conversation is welcome, but are you willing to risk another punishment?"

With the way Tom spoke, it was almost impossible to tell what he was thinking. His face was always set in a firm impasse, the only bit of expression on him occasionally coming through those blue eyes of his. Peter figured if he worked in this boring facility his whole life one day he would end up like Tommy too. He had a hard time keeping his face as impartial. He showed his distaste or excitement openly much to the distaste of his handlers.

"Punishment is getting old," Peter scoffed. "Wish they would just kill me and get it over with."

The disapproval in Tommy's eyes made Peter shrink back slightly. He folded his arms and pouted. White walls, white walls, white walls! White walls all the fucking time! Peter didn't get a response from Tommy after a minute of standing and tapping his feet waiting. Sometimes Tommy did that. He just shut down and went back to work. Peter grew impatient and decided to act petulant. White walls! He shot a web onto the roof and sprung himself up and crawled the rest of the way to bay 5. A few scientists on the way gave him odd looks. Peter scoffed. They were just little baby scientists! Iodoform smelling pesky green horns with show off folders in their hands like it made them look smart. At least wear glasses!

He dropped his eyes down onto the scanners above the door of Bay 5. It looked like every other door, but Peter knew because of the number 008 on the scanner that it was bay 5. The door opened and he crawled into the room, scaling the concrete walls, painted _white. _He moved to the corner, eyeing his handler sitting comfortably on a black armchair by the corner. A metal bed sat in the middle, several machines arranged around it, a dome shaped pod by the corner. Stravinsky's septet played in the background as his handler, put down his violin. He combed back bright red hair, pushing it evenly in a neat comb. With all that gel it wouldn't be a surprise if his hair was rock solid Peter mused.

"Why are you on the wall?" Kurt asked, pointing his bow at Peter.

"Spider this, Spider that, and I can't climb walls?" Peter asked cocking his head. "You wanted a Spider did you not?"

"Don't be petulant boy," Kurt replied growing increasingly impatient.

"White walls," Peter cursed through hissed teeth. "White walls!"

"I know it irritates you but show some decorum. I'm your handler, not your nanny. Punishing you is beneath me," Kurt admonished, long fingers tapping his bench top with growing anger. "Focus on the red if it helps."

"I _need _to change my clothes," Peter replied as he jumped down. He plucked at the white spandex hugging at his body tightly. "It's so tight, doesn't leave much to the imagination."

"Trust me child, no one is imagining," Kurt sighed exasperatedly.

"Someone looked! They looked! I am beautiful you know?" Peter huffed indignantly.

"Patient is showing signs of psychotic behaviour," Kurt mumbled, purposefully saying it loud enough for Peter to hear, as he wrote it down.

"I am not crazy! It's the walls! Why are they so- so, ugh, _white_?!"

"Take that up with the interior designer. We have waisted enough time. _Iodoform._"

Peter straightened up instinctively, although his face was still scrunched in abject disgust. Kurt traced a hand under his chin, toxic green eyes glinting with joy.

"You are beautiful, just like this. Obedient."

"Pervert," Peter retorted, although his face didn't look all that disturbed.

"Perversion or preservation? We are humanity's next stage young Spider. Come along now, show me those fangs."

Peter opened his mouth, his canines sticking out largely admits the rest of his straight even teeth. Only iodoform was said. Peter could still bite into the man's hand and kill him right now. He was still in some control of his mind, although the permanent fog had replaced true clear headedness. But he didn't bite. Kurt put his hands right over his teeth and Peter did not bite down. Once he might have had. Not anymore. Kurt was largely more patient and severe than his old handler. He regretted killing her, and he didn't particularly wish to see how much worse they could do with the next one… although he did wonder.

_That's so wrong_

Yes there it was, that familiar voice inside of his head. He had dubbed it Jiminy Cricket. He quite liked Jiminy Cricket, he was kind, was friendly, always concerned. Peter had a vague recalling of once always being like that. To think of his past self as 'other' was largely ridiculous according to Kurt, but Peter knew that people didn't really change so drastically without killing themselves first. He apparently hadn't killed himself well enough, which was a huge shame on his occupation, but a large relief on his shoulders. That was one death he would never recover from.

"Everything seems to be working. How are your wrists?" Kurt asked, holding them in his hands.

"Hmmm… they are… _wristy_," Peter finally said, nose scrunching up in a half smile.

"Two doses of keratin, or another educational movie child. That is your option if you do not give me straight answers."

Peter blanched. Torture or more torture? Wasn't there anything new here? The white walls were bad enough, why did they need more? Of course he would be difficult. He was hurting almost constantly in this drab, boring environment. Threatening him with more pain was beyond idiotic. Maybe they should paint his walls orange and then he'd listen to them.

"White walls!" he hissed, hazel eyes once again fixating on the walls. Peter's eyes came back into focus, as if reality was settling in and he decided to give a curt answer. "Nothing new, it's the same as before. Web shooters make more sense! Think about the different kinds of webs we can install in that."

"And think about the limitations," Kurt replied evenly. "You are our product. We designed you Spider, and a product doesn't have a say. You know that."

"Then take it as a very, very educationally based suggestion," Peter replied.

Kurt ignored him and took out a file. He handed it to the boy who took it blankly. Peter eyed the folder with a mixture of disgust and self-loathing. Why did it feel so good in his hands? He opened it and continued reading, drinking in every bit of information it provided him.

"There's an off base location outside of the Caribbean. One of our assets is still on the loose, frolicking with one of those heroes. She has the potential to be useful so bring her back dead or alive as long as you have a body."

"Where is the extraction point?" Peter asked. "It doesn't say here."

It normally did. Normally it was in and out. A helicopter or a private jet would be waiting for him and then wallah he was out. He took out the bank card in the file and frowned.

"Capturing Wanda Maximoff is your immediate priority, but she has been seen accompanied by Vision, a previous AI of Tony Stark's merged with vibranium and the soul stone. It can be suspected that both Maximoff and Vision have a mental connection of some sort. You will need to assess the extent of that before bringing her back or our base location may be jeopardised."

Peter cocked a brow in response. This was an incredibly ill-thought out plan. Kurt had caught onto the look and decided to elaborate.

"We aren't bringing her back here. She will be shipped off to one of our lab bases. They are more equipped to deal with her. You will get your next orders there."

"Does this mean I don't have to see your ugly face again?" Peter asked with blunt hopefulness.

Kurt scowled. "That's it, you're getting both the keratin and educational movie tonight."

Peter pouted. Jiminy Cricket finally spoke up.

_You're so dead_

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**Ok I haven't uploaded a new story in a long time. I kind of wanted to start something new. Also Pipping Strange's "Avenge The Departed" kind of made me want to write something Spiderman related. You should definitely check out that story. It's honestly such an amazing thriller story and she writes it so beautifully. Anyway please leave a review or follow the story if you liked it! Thanks for reading!**


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Sweet Little Boy

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Black pants, black shirt, black shoes. Black. Black. Black. Always with the monotone. Zip up, pull up, tighten the belt. Fasten the chest piece. Eat a protein bar. Black gloves, black mask, black hole. Pull up, tighten, and dust. Dust away the dust, he mused with a smile. White dust on black stuck out. White dust on white walls, was just a wall. Throw away the slivery white wrapper into the white bin. Black gloves on white wrapper doesn't suit.

"More black and you might brood on a gargoyle," he mumbled to himself.

"Spider you requested a riot team?"

Peter finally looked up. Yes. Yes, he had requested a team. A team that wasn't in his white room. A black team in the Caribbean. Well, he mused, white wouldn't blend in well there. He didn't reply, just nodded, taking a tablet in his hands. He planned out his route, the riot team required certain protocols, gestures only known to an agent of Hydra. So bland. So boring. He would've like it better if he could just scream out his plans. Villains did that didn't they? They caught the hero and monologued until they got away. The villains always helped. Not these ones.

"Alpha team needs to be prepared in case we want to capture patient red head," Peter said with an even face.

"Spider, you mean patient Maximoff?"

"Of course! Oh right R2D2 has a red head too!" Peter exclaimed thinking back to Vision. "No, no, no I meant patient red head. Patient hottie? Anyway, extraction team will be waiting according to my analysis. You will be waiting for the codes. Don't miss them. Keep it white."

Peter gave the man a look and he was received with a very confused face. Peter groaned. Sometimes he didn't make sense, but only when he wasn't interested. He really did try to be interested. Uncle Ben used to say that trying was all that mattered. It felt nice at the time, but Peter knew now that trying wasn't enough. Failing wasn't an option. He was made to never fail. That and he didn't want to watch another educational movie again. He was still tired from last night's punishment.

"Code white," Peter continued relaying the information to the riot squad leader. "As in extract alive. Equipment includes vibranium cables, the emp, frequency headset and a shock collar."

"I know what the package involves," the man replied bitingly. "You cannot relay the codes imperfectly Spider. I will not have you cost my team any men."

"White walls!" Peter cursed, eyes darting back to his screen. "Code black too! I will send the beta signal. Your squad will prepare for a live extraction immediately but if that fails, just bring an air tight body bag."

The man apparently did not appreciate being ignored by the teen, but he kept calm. Professionalism was everything. Peter focused back on the room, having realised he was jerking out of reality again. Fucking white walls. He pushed up the tablet screen. Yes Wanda Maximoff. 21 years old, red hair, which used to be brown, often seen in a red coat and her signature leather boots. Kurt would like her, or at least her hair. He much preferred hers. It wasn't gelled back so much. Then there was Vision, a real-life AI in android form. Peter was more than interested, he was already smitten. He hoped everything would just end in code white. He already liked the both of them.

"Alpha riot squad leader, we are a go," Peter said snipingly as he threw the tablet into a bag.

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Peter cursed colourfully for a long time in the white private jet. Kurt had decided to book him into a rather average motel close to the beach. The thought of it excited him. When he reached, he took in a deep breath, enjoying the smell of fresh tropical air. The drive to the motel was quick, but his anticipation had payed off.

The motel itself was mesmerizing. It looked old and yet so beautiful. The walls were painted a light peachish pink, and the rails were of a dark rusted Victorian filigree style workmanship, running across the balcony. He paused at the windchime outside, the painted glass refracting the light of the lamps outside. The stark contrast of the functional white halls and identical sterilized rooms was jarring. Peter reached up and touched the glass gently, and it quickly clashed onto the others causing the colourful lights to dance on his skin painting him in light blues, yellows and greens. He felt a flutter of long-lost emotion bubble in his chest.

"Sorry, were you going to book a room?"

The accent was different, more pronounced in the vowels. English wasn't this person's first language. Peter knew a bit of Spanish himself, but language had never been a priority of his handlers. He forced himself to look away from the windchime and instead turned to the lady who had addressed him. She was wearing a simple red dress with blue flower prints. He was instantly smitten.

"Yes, I'm not sure how long I'll stay. Can I pay by the day?" Peter asked.

"Yes that's fine with me. Do you want me to take your bag up to your room?" she asked.

"No, no it's fine," Peter said quickly as he picked up his duffle bag. She led him up to the front desk and took a key from the multiple keys hooked onto a board. Peter took it and read the number 8 on it.

"I'll take you to your room. We don't have showers in each room, so you'll have to use the common showers. They're down to the right from the entrance. It gets packed there in the afternoon so best use it in the morning."

Peter was only really half listening to her. His eyes darted around the block, counting every door, planning every escape route and possible hideaways. He managed to catch himself and stop when the women turned to a door, to his room. She opened it revealing a modest sized open apartment. There was a bed in the corner, draped with red and green patterned sheets, an old tv by the corner and a small kitchen with barely any utensils other than a pot, microwave and mini fridge. What made Peter pause though was a painting by the peeling wall. It was an impressionist interpretation of a long reaching coastline, waves hitting the shore in the morning as people idled by.

"That's the shore nearby here," the lady said conversationally.

"I've never seen a beach before," Peter admitted.

"You should check it out once your mission is complete."

Peter paused before turning around slowly. The women who had looked all to casual and civilian like before suddenly seemed more nefarious by nature now. Did Hydra seriously have their hands in the tourist industry now, or were they sending people to watch him?

"No need to look so wound up," she began. "We have no affiliations to any one organization. We are just a spot for hired assassins and organizations to visit for safe stops. So reminder little boy, that we do not bring fights here."

Peter relaxed slightly although his hands were still tensed. He nodded slightly and turned back to the picture of the beach.

"That shouldn't be a problem. There aren't any white walls here," he said looking into her deep brown eyes a moment later.

She didn't voice her confusion but decided to continue.

"There's a hidden vault underneath the fridge. Your key can also open it in case you are storing anything valuable."

Peter nodded although he didn't need anything of the sort. The lady left soon after, not being one for a conversation. Peter stared at the picture of the shore and felt his heart ache. Images of May and Ben raged in his mind and suddenly he wished for the white.

"White walls," he whispered to himself. "Iodoform, me-"

_You're killing me!_

He paused and fought off the urge to say the rest. Not the time. This was not the time. Peter threw his bag onto the ground before opening it and pulling out a sniper. He began disassembling the gun and cleaning the parts religiously before he loaded it with a tranquilizer. It wasn't his gun. He didn't like it. He didn't like any gun even if it was his. Though, he reasoned, that he wasn't going to use this unless absolutely necessary.

Not long after he fell asleep.

Peter did use the showers in the morning which was admittedly a blessing since it was an open shower. Only two other men were there, and they barely gave him a glance. He had gotten used to being seen naked. One did not spend the better half of the year going through body augmentations and physical examinations to remain modest forever. That didn't mean he liked being looked at. At least not in the way some people did at the facility.

He didn't wear his tactical gear this time, and instead wore a casual outfit. Hiding two poisoned blades and a clean one under his shorts. He quickly caught a taxi to his target's location. Peter pulled out his tablet in the taxi and read through the mission updates. It was nothing much. The riot squads had booked a bunker off coast and were awaiting further instructions.

When he reached location he waited patiently, or rather he waited whilst yawning, tapping his feet and making weird faces to pass the time. He was bored and quickly began missing conversation. Thankfully he only had to wait another 30 minutes before Vision and Wanda walked out in what looked like beach wear under baggy clothes. They were going to the beach, he thought with a spark of excitement.

Following behind them was not easy. They breezed through the crowd, twisting and turning like they were a part of the flow. Peter was not used to being a part of the crowd. He was used to being in one, but being a part of one was different. Somehow, he managed to stay on objective, listening in on their conversation with his enhanced senses.

"What do you say we hit the waters and then go out for some enchiladas?" Wanda asked.

"That would be pleasant."

"Just don't get your circuits shorted because of me though," Wanda laughed.

"I am waterproof," Vision responded with a mixture of confusion and indignation.

"It's no problem, I'll just buy a packet of rice if it comes down to it," Wanda laughed.

Vision mumbled a reply before joining in on her laughter. She hooked an arm around his and they walked together towards the beach. Peter followed behind feeling the familiar ache that was always present before a mission.

_This isn't you. Why aren't you fighting back anymore?_

'Shut up Jiminy Cricket,' he thought to himself. There was his past self again, being naive, childlike and hopeful beyond reason. He could not fail. He would not fail. This would end in a code white. He would make sure of it. Despite his thoughts he noticed the slight stiffness in Vision's posture, how they turned back ever so slightly and lowered their voice into a whisper. Jokes on them, he could still hear every word they said.

"Someone is following us, his mind is disturbed," Vision whispered.

"I can feel it too now that you say it," Wanda replied. "Don't look back, keep moving forward."

Peter cursed inwardly. How did they find out so soon? Was it the mind stone? He had heard of how powerful infinity stones were, but even Hydra was not fully aware of its abilities. Peter decided to take this a different route. He hoped his acting skills were good enough. He turned on his comm link.

"Alpha riot squad copy?"

"Alpha squad copy," they replied quickly.

"Target is with Vision, heading to Shoal Beach. Track my route and proceed to location."

Peter didn't want Vision to be caught up in this mission. He needed to separate the two so he could catch one without the interference of the other. It didn't help that both Wanda and Vision were some of the most powerful members of the Avengers. He would have to take Wanda by surprise if he wanted to win. Fighting her when she was prepared would be too hard.

He moved to an alleyway before shooting his webs to the roof and jumping up in one swift motion. He ran ahead of the couple before jumping down the roof and walking towards Wanda and Vision. He hoped this plan would work because if it didn't, he would have to face both in a fight. He was already nervous, but he wanted them to sense that nervousness. He walked rather quickly through the crowd and purposefully bumped straight into Wanda. He fell over despite not having been hit with enough of an impact. Wanda had stumbled back too at the encounter.

"I-I'm sorry, I didn't see you there," he stuttered an apology.

_You sound just like me._

Peter ignored the thought and allowed himself to be helped up by Wanda. She furrowed her brows at him before returning to a pleasant smile.

"You look... frantic," she noted.

"I ah... I kind of lost my parents," he lied, scratching the back of his neck. "You see I lost my phone and because we're here for a holiday they got a separate card and number which I... kinda forgot," he added sheepishly.

"That's unfortunate," Vision said sympathetically.

"Yeah we were on our way to a motel here somewhere and I lost track of them. I-I just don't know how to find them," Peter said worriedly.

Peter began breathing heavily and Wanda put a hand on his shoulder. Her brown eyes spoke of worry and he almost cracked his act with guilt. Years of training made him keep his composure. The act hadn't ended… the act never ended.

"Calm down, it won't be so hard to find your parents," she said softly. "We can go send them a message on Facebook if they have it."

Peter opened his eyes widely as if to show he hadn't thought of that already. Wanda smiled and Vision gave him a quick glance over.

"I-I didn't think of that. Can I borrow your internet?" he asked before pointedly looking at their clothes. "Um sorry! I didn't want to take away your day at the beach. I can wait."

"Are you sure? It won't be too long from here to our apartment," Vision asked.

"No, no it's fine. They said they wanted to check out the beaches soon anyway. I might find them there and it's only really a problem if I don't meet them by 9 tonight. I'm sorry I um... freaked out earlier. Sometimes when I'm worried, I can't think straight."

"It's no problem, we're here to help," Wanda said with a warm smile. "My name is Wanda by the way. This is Victor, he's my fiancée."

"Nice to meet you I'm Peter," he said shaking her hands. "I'm so glad I bumped into you guys... literally!"

"It is our pleasure," Wanda laughed. "So why are you here Peter?"

"I'm on a vacation with my family from America," he said with a smile. "I guess you could say we're on a mission to find a suitable location."

"We used to reside in America too," Vision replied. "Where are you from?"

"Queens," Peter replied, although he chocked a little as he admitted it.

"We lived in New York too," Wanda said with a big smile.

The conversation continued for a long while and Peter found himself genuinely relaxing with them. A nagging worry was always behind his casual smile, but he remained ever so excited. It was so rare to talk to someone who expected nothing of him, just someone who wanted to help him. Peter realized he was making this mission a lot harder for himself. Wanda and Vision were genuinely good people. He didn't want to hurt them or separate them. He would be ruining two very happy people's lives.

_You have ruined more than just two. Stop now before it's too late. You're killing me.  
_  
'I've been killing you for a while now, but you never die,' Peter thought to himself in irritation.

"Are you alright?" Wanda asked.

Peter smiled, although it didn't reach his eyes. There was no reason for dark thoughts now. Where were the white walls to torment him? Without it his thoughts were elsewhere.

"Yeah I'm fi-"

He trailed off as he saw the beach. His eyes widened and he found himself gaping openly in wonder. The ocean was huge. The coast stretched as far as the eye could see, thousands of tiny homes in the distance overlooking hills over the beach. People of all colours, races and types lounged around on the warm sand, and the rest pleasured themselves in the water.

"First time seeing the beach huh?" Wanda asked.

"It's so... beautiful," he gasped.

"It sure is. A nice day to play in the water too," Wanda commented with a smile.

"Come on then," Vision gestured.

Peter ran ahead of them forgetting the mission entirely. He threw off his thongs and dug his feet into the warm sand, feeling every grain, every texture colour and sound around him. People laughed and talked and sang songs. The ocean pulled in and out calmly, the waves pushing in the scent of salt and a cold breeze that softened the blow of the sun's heat. Peter just breathed in the unfiltered air and let himself melt in this beautiful colourful world.

A hand dropped on his shoulder and he turned around to see Wanda behind him. She had taken off her shirt and shorts to reveal a bikini underneath. Were all red heads hot? He didn't look much though. If he didn't like others looking at him then maybe she didn't either. Peter returned her smile with a genuine one.

"Come on let's go in the water," she said. "Vis- Victor here doesn't like it much."

Victor looked abashed. He stood back and gave Wanda a dismissive gesture.

"I will go buy us some ice cream," he said like the perfect gentleman.

"And a packet of rice too, just in case," she shouted at him as he walked away.

Peter sent her a questioning look although he did understand the joke. She noticed him and said it was an inside joke. They continued walking further into the beach- alone. He needed to get her completely alone though, more alone than a place with hundreds of eye witnesses.

"So how did you and Vision meet?" Peter asked.

"Oh that's a complicated story," Wanda grimaced. "I met him just after my brother... after Petro had died."

"Sorry for bringing up bad memories," Peter apologized.

"No, no it's fine. Victor, he helped me through that time. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be here having fun. So let's get into the water, shall we?"

Peter nodded and eagerly jumped into the water. He felt the cold punch him unexpectedly and he shivered and looked at Wanda accusingly. She was stepping in slowly. His expression made her laugh.

"Hey you jumped in, not me," she laughed.

"Could have warned me," Peter pouted.

He splashed her, and she just stood there in shock. Her arms rose up and she gasped before an evil smile crossed her face and she shoved water onto him. Peter got hit with a wave at the same time and came up gasping for air before letting out a hearty laugh.

'Spider what are you doing?' the comm in his ear buzzed.

Peter was pulled away from the water, from the beach, from Wanda. Suddenly he remembered what he was meant to be doing and his mood significantly soured.

"Vision is currently away," he whispered, watching as Wanda swam deeper. "Where is the best extraction location?"

"East, down the beach. We have cleared a location. Extraction team alpha and beta are in position. Code white is currently initiated."

"That's a copy. Target will be in soon."

The comm buzzed out and Peter touched his ear piece inconspicuously before diving in after Wanda. He needed a way to lure her to East side. Peter felt his nerves jerk him into a frenzy, but he quickly calmed himself down. Failure was not an option. He wouldn't just be punished with some torture. He was still a young agent, a _patient_. One sign of failure was enough to send him back to the chopping block, not enough to terminate him like it would a fully fledged agent, but enough to impose on him that failures were not tolerated. The chopping block was that reminder. He couldn't handle the thought of that... a fate worse than death.

_You're sending Wanda there. Why are you being so selfish?  
_  
Was it being selfish to be terrified of something? Peter pushed through the thought and resurfaced besides Wanda.

"Hey Wanda, do you want to swim there? The beach is empty, and I think it would be cool. Like one of those tourist picture perfect moments," he said excitedly.

She looked at the beach and smiled. Apparently, she had liked the idea too. Peter's stomach lurched. Of course she didn't think he was a threat. He was just some 15-year-old kid. She would think that even if he had an agenda, she could easily overpower him if it came down to it. Peter grimaced internally. Why did it have to be Wanda?

"Yeah that's awesome," she said before swimming back to the shore.

Peter followed her back and then they continued walking. He almost wished she would change her mind and just go back.

"Hey won't Victor miss us?" he asked.

"No he has a knack of finding me anywhere."

If this was a normal conversation Peter would be inclined to brush past that sentence, but it wasn't and he knew she meant what she said. Vision probably had a mental connection of some kind with her. He would have to take her down quickly.

"So aren't you worried that your parents are searching for you?"

"They're control freaks," he said thinking back to Kurt and Hydra. "Once in a while I think I should do what I want. You know the only clothes they allow me to wear at home is white. White walls," he hissed.

"Uh huh," Wanda said looking confused.

"It's not an issue. It's bearable but sometimes I want to paint the walls red, or blue or orange. No one lets me," he continued ranting.

"Must be tough," she said, although it didn't seem like she meant it.

He huffed. She had no idea. No one did. He was the only one constantly suffering because of the white, but when he looked at this much colour it made him focus. He hated being focused. He hated feeling everything around him.

"It is, but I love coming out here! This was my most favourite trip so far. The end always sucks though," he sighed.

"Sometimes I wish I can pause time and just live in one perfect second. This seems kind of like it," Wanda said as she pointed forward.

Peter looked. Yes it was perfect. The beach was empty. Wanda was alone, and the waves were calm. He frowned. A perfect moment to commit the act. In one swift movement his arms reached under his shorts, pulled out the small poisoned knife and stabbed Wanda in the arm. She jerked back, eyes wide and full of shock.

"Peter?" she whispered caught off guard, before her eyes hardened and red energy fizzled off her hands.

"I'm so, so sorry," Peter whispered, as he dodged a blast of water she had directed at him. "White walls! I would be totally fangirling at your water bending if I wasn't playing Lord Ozai!"

Peter flipped and dodged and soon Wanda was shot in the arm with a tranquilizer. Alpha team had initiated protocol white. She groaned before going to throw more punches at Peter. He drew in close to her, her magic becoming weaker by the second as her limbs grew tired from both the toxin in his blade and the tranquilizer dart.

"Why?" she asked, stumbling forward.

"I cannot fail," Peter replied with a frown. "Don't worry I'll be a good bad guy. Maybe I'll monologue for you. Buy you some time."

He didn't know what possessed him, but he tackled her down and discreetly pulled out the dart in her shoulder. She tried to pry him off, but Peter held her down hard.

"Alpha team bring in extraction equipment. Target is secured," he said touching his ear piece.

"Copy"

Peter turned to Wanda. Her frightened expression made his stomach flip. He felt like a part of him was dying by doing this. She wasn't a nameless kill target. She was a part of a group that he had looked up to since he was a child. She was a hero like he had dreamt of being.

_You have to help her.  
_  
For once Peter gave into Jiminy Cricket. He dropped his head down to her ear.

"I need you to stay awake the whole trip. Pretend to be knocked out. If your connection with Vision is as strong as you think, you'll have a chance. I'm sorry I have to complete this mission."

Wanda looked at him in a mixture of confusion and horror. When she saw the men coming from the corner, and realised her body was immobile she gave in. There would be nothing else she could do like this. She was caught completely off guard. Her only hope was to listen to the boy.

Peter waited until a team of swat dressed men ran from behind the tree line and secured the former Avenger. Wanda remained still to her credit. Peter let out a breath of relief as they loaded her into the helicopter. Now he just needed to leave-

"Wanda!"

Peter turned around to see Victor running in panic. Peter turned to the alpha squad leader and gestured for him to leave. The helicopter lifted off and Victor transformed into Vision in front of his eyes. It was admittedly an awesome sight, if it weren't for the fact that the android looked pissed.

Peter shot his webs at Vision's feet as he took off in the air. The android tugged up before looking down, eyes crazed with fury. Peter gulped, wondering if maybe encouraging the wrath of an Avenger was worse than the chopping block. Who was he kidding, the chopping block was worse. With all his strength he swung the rope down, bringing Vision down along with him.

"Where are you taking Wanda?" he asked, tone dark.

"Ah shucks I can't be telling the good guys our evil plan," Peter laughed nervously

"I have no time to be playing with you," Vision hissed.

"You have no choice," Peter replied as he clicked his wrist bones and activated the electricity stored inside of his augmented arms. It always sent a jolt of pain down his body too. He would ask for it to be fixed or upgraded but he wasn't insane enough yet to go back _there_ on purpose. Vision let out a growl of pain as he fell down, the electricity a high enough voltage to maybe affect his circuits. Peter didn't know how android physiology worked, he was just grateful that it was enough to bring him down.

"If it's any consolation, you wait a day and I'm sure you'll find her, and it'll make my job a whole lot easier," Peter tried.

"I do not feel ill will from you child. Step down and I will not harm you," Vision growled.

"No can do. My handlers would throw me down the lion's den if you get what I mean. And my name isn't Daniel so I'm not liking my odds."

Apparently the talking was over because Vision didn't say another word as he charged at Peter. Then teen jumped out of the way, his spider sends jolting with imminent danger. He felt the gust of wind pull his sensitive hair up as he tumbled along the sand. Admittedly this was not his best playing field. He was surrounded by hard to move on sand, and there was nothing to shoot his webs at and propel himself onto. He needed to keep Vision busy for at least 5 more minutes. By then the helicopter would be who knows where.

"You will tell me where she is," Vision growled.

Peter skidded on the sand, his fingers burning with the friction. He hissed in pain but a smile grew on his face. The fear had a weird effect on him. He remembered the good old fear toxin. It really made him _smile_.

"She could be anywhere by now, but I'll tell you if you can catch me!"

"I am not playing games!"

"No one ever wants to with me," Peter pouted before he shot a web at the nearby cliff and sprinted up. He swung himself as Vision flew quickly his way. Momentum also apparently was not on his side. He had to pivot his body to the right as the Android crashed into the land besides him. Once he managed to latch onto a tree it would put him on even ground with Vision, although a towering cityscape would have been ideal.

"Beta team, set coordinates to position 4. I'll be needing some anti-android weapons," Peter said quickly through his ear piece as he rushed across the buildings.

People around him screamed as Vision shot at him with his laser. Peter barely missed the next shot and he was becoming antsy. This mission had become too dangerous, and a damaged asset was a failed asset. God forbid he actually got caught! He swooped down and picked up a civilian girl. She screamed as he swung her up, throwing her in the air as he thwipped another web, before catching her as he swung over the ground. Peter turned back and hazarded a look at Vision.

"You wouldn't shoot a civilian would you?!"

Apparently he was right because Vision was following behind him carefully now. Peter looked at all the buildings. Position 4 was 2 blocks down from his current location. That was where beta squad was located He dropped down gracefully on a roof and roughly pulled the sobbing woman in front of him. Vision landed in front of him managing to look both placating and furious at the same time. He held his hands up as if Peter would murder the woman any second.

"You know my demands. It's all pretty cliché," Peter said as he opened his mouth and hovered his fangs over her neck. "One bite and she's frothing on the ground and dying a very painful death. Trust me they've tested it out on the pain scale factor already. It's about an 8/10."

He hoped he was pulling this off well enough. Damn Kurt would be proud.

_You shouldn't be happy about that.  
_  
Peter watched as Vision paused. His robotic features looked uncannily human as he furrowed his brows and waged an internal war in his brain... or um- software? He hoped the android had morals.

"Let her go, she isn't a part of this," he said, voice hard.

"Oh I don't want her to be," Peter said with a weak smile. "But you know the business. I cannot be caught. It'll be off with my head," he said making a comical chocking sound.

"Let her go, tell me where Wanda is, and I will keep you safe. You aren't doing this of your free will are you?"

"Yes I am," Peter hissed. "I do this. I've done everything."

He hadn't meant to expose his sour spot. He should have kept his outburst in. White walls! He shook his head and bared his fangs a little more. Venom dropped from it and the woman in his arm made a sound of weak distress. He hated eliciting that sound.

"Peter, at least listen-"

"-No you listen, I am going to leave here today. If you catch me it will make no difference, but if you let me go, I will make her time there less of a hell."

Apparently that wasn't the right thing to say because Vision had taken it as a threat. Peter had meant it genuinely. He would make it bearable to the best of his abilities, but for now he had a raging android rushing at him. In a split-second Peter flung the civilian off the roof. Vision caught the action and flew after her. Peter didn't wait a second to swing away, only looking back to watch in relief as Vision caught her.

His muscles strained as he pushed them to his limit. Buildings blurred past him as he gave up his control partially to pure instincts. He jumped and vaulted over buildings with pure focused grace until he came by beta squad. The five-man squad threw him a pair of gloves which he wore gratefully.

"You better leave now. He will be here soon and I don't think he's afraid to kill," Peter said.

"Orders from Professor List say you are to leave. We will take care of this."

Peter flinched at their monotone. They were a drone team. Him and a few other special operatives had come to call them that. Their voices were baritone, flat, their eyes dead and muted. They were soldiers trained and made to die without fear. Peter was grateful he was considered valuable enough to not be one of them. Still a part of him resented their existence. They deserved to live... even if they were brainwashed neo nazi's.

"I can fight-"

The comm in his ear buzzed open.

'Iodoform, metal-'

"I'll go," Peter breathed out quickly.

Had Kurt been listening in. How much had he heard? No they didn't attach any audio recording devices on him. Those usually immitted frequencies that they were unsure that Vision could catch. Vision came blasting in and by then Peter had already begun swinging away.

He reached his apartment sweaty and jittery from adrenaline. The lady in the red dress from before gave him a raised brow.

"Hard mission?" she asked. "Hope you aren't bringing trouble here."

"I've lost him," Peter huffed before he stopped outside the wind chime. "How much is that?"

"That old thing?" she asked. "Maybe around 10 dollars."

"I'll buy it," Danny said quickly. "I'll be leaving soon so can I have it now?"

"Just take it for free," she said a little insulted. "I'm not taking 10 dollars from a child."

"I'm no child," Peter huffed, although he grabbed it gratefully. He stormed to his room before snapping on his tactical clothes. He threw a loose over it to make it look less conspicuous. As he readjusted his metal gloves over his hand, Peter looked over at the windchime. It glowed brightly, dancing its colours everywhere it went. He wrapped it around his clothes to muffle the sound before hiding it underneath his bag. He threw it over his shoulder before leaving through a designated quick exist out the back. His personal extraction team waited there in an inconspicuous Toyota Camry.

Peter got in and drove away silently.

The jet to his next location had been silent and torturous. The white interior was tormenting him, but it allowed his thoughts to be directed towards it in irritation rather than to dwell on his recent actions. His eyes darted towards his bag every so often. The windchime was there. Would they find out that he took it? Would they scan his bag? No his bag was made so that the bottom container could not be scanned by an xray. They needed it that way to get through customs.

When the plane landed and he was greeted with a forest landscape and a temperate climate, Peter nearly lurched forward dizzily. Was it that place? Was he back in the butchery? To his horror a familiar face greeted him. It was Doctor List.

"Spider, my favourite subject," he said pulling Peter into a half hug.

Peter froze and found himself walking almost mechanically along with the man, clutching his bag to his side. The feeling of the man's fingers on his side made him dizzy.

"You caught an Avenger today, and an old asset too," List said, his voice nasally as usual but with a more chipper tone.

"Thank you sir," Peter replied stiffly.

"Don't worry. Wanda will be improved. I'll be improving you too."

"Thank you sir"

"What an obedient little boy you've grown up to be. Don't worry your time here won't be as painful now that you've proved yourself to us."

Peter didn't believe the man. He nodded anyway. White walls... white walls... white walls.

_He'll kill us and end our misery  
_  
Peter knew he wouldn't. He was useful. He followed orders! They wouldn't throw him away. He hadn't failed. He would never fail. Never!  
_  
We deserve to die. We sent Wanda here. She'll go through what we did! Maybe even worse. Then you'll have killed me. Then you will suffer. We deserve to suffer._

'No! Don't die!' Peter thought to himself. 'Never! You're not allowed to!'

"White walls," he hissed, before he caught himself.

"It seems the conditioning wasn't complete."

"It was!" Peter replied back quickly.

"Then come in and tell us about the augmentations you had in mind. It'll be our little present to you."

Somehow the idea of choosing which part of his body they would rip through and twist into a weapon, was even worse than being an unwilling applicant in their experiments. He took in a long deep breath, holding it in and forcing himself to gather his thoughts. He hated the clarity that came with being fully aware. He much preferred how distorted his mind had become.

"My wrists. I want a more diverse range of webs," he said with a painfully even voice, even forcing himself to sound _eager._

_Look at us. We've become their little dog, a bitch to follow our master with a wagging tail._

Peter couldn't even disagree with Jiminy. He was right. He had traded his pride- his values, a long time ago, and with that he had traded a part of himself he would never get back. White walls! He nearly cursed again, but the sheer adrenaline pumping through his veins and bolstering horrid memories of this very place, forced him to shut down verbally.

"Come then Spider, it's time we gave you our reward."

Peter didn't shy away from the man's hands trailing through his hair, treating him like a pet he was fond of. He simply remained still under the touch.

And then he followed.

* * *

**It's incredibly hard trying to write from the perspective of someone who's not completely there in the head. That's why I decided to write this story in third person, so we can get the occasional messy glimpse into Peter's mind while also having a story that makes at least some coherent sense. I'm really enjoying writing this story. Yes Hydra does have Peter as their little assassin, and more of his backstory will be revealed later as well as why he's been acting really weird. Also the Avengers will eventually come into the story and by eventually, I mean pretty soon.**

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Reviews

Guest- I'm glad you enjoyed the story!

FandomTrash5165- Yup these kinds of stories are also my favourite. I like to ask myself the question of what would good people do when they're forced to be bad? I mean it's interesting. Thanks for the review!

PippinStrange- Thank you sooo much! It means a lot coming from you! Yeah Peter will never lose his iconic humour, not even in Hydra!

Thebookworm33- Yup I've read so many of these stories that they just inspired me! I love evil organisations going against spies. It's such a classic story. Thanks for the review!

Gregary Fritsch- If you stay for long enough there will be nearly the whole Avengers cast coming up. I can't wait to write them into the story! Thanks for leaving a review!


	3. Chapter 3

An Improvement

* * *

Peter woke up feeling a jolting pain stab through his arm. He glanced around to the dimly lit room, drenched with the smell of disinfectant and copper. His body shook with sudden panic, breath coming out in large gasps as he stumbled off the bed. It took him a moment to realise that he was in no immediate danger, or that he wasn't in his usual white cell. He was back in the butchery. He felt the shiver travel down his spine as he recalled the day before, where he had the _privilege _of choosing his own mutilation with a grateful smile.

"What did they do to you?"

Peter jerked up to see Wanda on the other cell, separated by a thick layer of blue tinted glass. Her arm was bandaged where he had stabbed her, and overall, despite her messy hair, she looked fine. He managed to compose himself, letting out a breath before pulling back and sitting on the bed again.

"It was an upgrade," he told her carefully, feeling the effects of the drug in his system still keeping him confused and numb.

"They mutilated your arm," she replied with a grovel.

Peter looked at his arm, wrapped in bandages and pulled it away to reveal his red wrists, cut down the middle. It almost looked like a suicide scar. In a way it was. He trailed a finger down the bump to wear the two metal holes jotted out of his scared skin. Hydra didn't care about aesthetics for sure.

"It was an upgrade," he insisted.

"Why did you take me back here?" she asked sternly, whatever sympathy she had before draining away.

"It was my mission," he replied sitting back against the wall.

"And you follow all your mission orders?" she asked.

"What are you getting at?" Peter finally asked as he looked at her.

Her eyes darted to the corner of the cell and he understood what she meant. A part of him was still under a heavy fog, but he had grown used to having a confused mind. They were being watched. Now that he thought about it, it made no sense to put him in a room right next to a person he had just captured, while he was still half drugged. They were doing this to test him. He was more susceptible to telling the truth in this state, to accidentally saying the wrong thing. They wanted to know where his loyalties lied. A sudden burst of fear took over him and he shoved back further into the wall. He was loyal! He had never failed a mission!

"Why did you take me here?" she asked again.

"Because it's my mission," he bit back. "White walls!"

"I haven't lost connection," she said cryptically.

Peter just nodded and remained silent. He studied the room looking for any signs of his bag, but it wasn't there. The thought that they'd find the wind chime sent chills up his spine. He couldn't lose it! They simply sat in silence until a man dressed in standard hydra guard wear walked up and opened Peter's cell door.

"Spider, you have your temporary accommodations set in the west wing. Follow me," the man ordered.

Peter got up and followed behind the man, not sparing Wanda a glance. She was in her cell, he had done his mission. Nothing more was to be said. He followed the guard through the damp corridors. This facility had always smelt a little like the ocean, like they were near a rocky mountainside. The image of that had been imprinted on his mind when he was younger, back when his imagination still ran wild. He would imagine the villains layer to look dramatic, a stark grey compound, atop a sturdy black cliff, and underneath it raging waves crashing against the cliffside admits the thundering of a shrouded grey sky. He supposed now it wouldn't be the most inconspicuous of places to hide a layer.

His musings were cut short when he entered a large room. To the back end was a plain desk, littered with paper, contrasting the organised files colour coded along the walls. There must have been hundreds of files lining the walls, some in shelfs along the sides. The large chair in front of the desk swivelled around and Kurt sat there reading a file, legs crossed amiably. He stopped out of surprise. It was almost impossible to imagine his handler in any other room except for the one in his residential compound, surrounded by white.

"I do believe you have proven yourself Spider," the man hummed in approval. "You've caught one of the strongest Avengers, and your program has proven to be… effective."

"What will you do with her?"

Kurt raised a brow, almost as if he hadn't expected the question. The man stood up and took out a folder from one of the many on the walls. He flipped through it without saying anything for a good minute, before he finally asked a question.

"Do you know why the Winter Soldier was a failure?"

"He did not obey," Peter replied quickly.

"Not quite right. He did not _want _to obey. He did, when we spoke the words, just like we can to you. But we don't do we. We don't speak the words."

"I did everything," Peter said evenly, although his heart lurched at the thought.

_You're evil!_

"Yes you did, you didn't need the words. That's what makes you different from the Winter Soldier. You can own a man's mind, but you can't own his heart. Bucky Barnes was a man with a heart. You Spider, you don't have one do you," Kurt said jabbing his chest.

Peter blinked away the rising emotion in his chest. He wanted to protest. He wanted to believe that deep down inside he was good, but he couldn't. People weren't inherently good or bad, people were just people, and its what you did that defined you. He had murdered, he had grovelled, he had sold himself to Hydra for survival instead of accepting death when he was given the chance.

"It's not a bad thing. We have enough men with hearts, even men with a mind unlike you," he said with a little disgust. "Men who can build robotic suits to protect the world, men who can make hearts on their own, men who have led wars and inspired people. We don't need them. We need order, this world needs order. Without a system we might as well be animals."

Peter didn't say a word, his mind remained unfocused, hazy. He tried to look attentive, but he never really was, not anymore. Kurt seemed to notice this, and he sighed before closing the files.

"We allowed you to keep your mind so it could be put to use, not for you to flounder it remaining unfeeling," he said sternly. "Listen well Spider, because even a small mistake from now on will mean certain death. No more smart remarks, no more bending the rules to complete a mission. You will be meeting with the future of Hydra, with the future of A.I.M. Do you know what that means?"

"I am an asset," Peter replied unflinchingly.

"And a useless asset is unnecessary," Kurt nodded. "Not an experiment, an asset. The experimentation phase has gone, you don't have the privilege of second guessing."

Kurt put the file away before gesturing towards the guard by the door. The man nodded before bringing in a bound and gagged man in his twenties. The guard brought him before Peter and shoved him onto the floor on his knees. The man whimpered.

"It is such a pity. This man could have been a loyal follower, someone to help quell the chaos in this world. He could have been… what do you special agents call them; ah that's right, he could have been a drone. Such an unfitting word. I much prefer the blind followers."

Peter didn't reply, his mouth had gone dry. This was a man who had very nearly been brainwashed into a mindless meat bag. By all means the canon fodder of hydra operatives. Everyday men taken and turned into mindless slaves; a drone. The very idea of it sent shivers of fear through his body, his skin prickling at the thought. He flinched as Kurt put a gun in his hands and pointed it at the head of the whimpering man. Brown eyes very much like his own looked up at him, tears streaming down and begging.

"Shoot."

Peter pulled the trigger.

The close proximity of the shot had the man's head blow off less cleanly than one would usually see in a movie. Bits of brain and blood splattered on his clothes. He held his breath when it sank in what he had done. Kurt took the gun from his hand slowly, moving behind him and bending over to talk by his ear.

"I said shoot, I didn't say you had to shoot this man," Kurt said.

Never in nearly a decade had he felt so weak. Peter felt his legs go from underneath him and he fell to his knees. His hands trembled besides him and he felt bile rise up his throat before he puked it out.

"Does it hurt you to know you've killed a man for no reason?" Kurt asked as he sat back down in the far end of the room. "It should. We don't kill without reason, and our orders are given with more precision than just 'shoot', however I must commend you for your lack of hesitance."

Peter just looked at the dead body in front of him, body still with shock. He looked back up and the walls were a dark grey.

"White walls," he cried, eyes darting around.

"I fear we might have driven you a little mad," Kurt sighed. "A coping mechanism. Patient is displaying signs of delirium."

Kurt promptly slapped Peter's face hard, drawing blood. He pulled his hands away, shaking them as he wiped the blood on his trousers.

"Is that what you thought I'd say. You're not a _patient _anymore Spider. One more fit and you'll be thrown into a place far worse than the butchery."

Peter begged his mind to focus and it did, bringing forth a surge of pain and self-loathing that threatened to choke him where he stood. He somehow pushed past it all, past the overwhelming feeling as he stood up. The guard who had bought him in showed him to his rooms.

The only relief he found was that the walls were indeed white.

* * *

It took a day of deep seethed melancholy before he managed to leave his room. He wasn't a patient anymore he remembered. Not an experiment. He was finally a part of the ranks, someone who could officially be titled a Hydra special agent. He didn't know how to feel about that.

_You should have died_

Peter shook his head. He was afraid of dying. When it came down to it, he didn't want to go, not in a place where no one would mourn his death. Peter roamed the halls completely unsupervised, although he knew that the cameras were still watching his every move. He strode through to showers and methodically washed himself clean before he went back to his room to see new clothes sitting there for him. He put it on gingerly. They were impossibly more tighter than his previous gear, but he barely felt like he had any clothes on when he wore it, yet the material felt sturdier than anything he'd ever worn before. It was fully black, outlined by grey lines along his arms, almost in the design of webs. There was a symbol of a spider on his wrists and a large symbol of Hydra on his back. He fasted the straps of knives and poisons along his thighs, before leaving his room.

For the first time in his life since he had been taken, he was free to do what he wanted. Not entirely free, but not under orders every single second of the day. He could crawl into the cafeteria and cause some chaos, he could sneak into a prisoner's cell and prank them… but he didn't want to. He would die. He knew that. Those were things he did when he had a handler, someone who would take the brunt of his misdemeanour. There was no one now, not even Kurt. That hurt somehow. He let himself wander until he found himself back in front of Wanda's cell, she looked pale today. Her body was slumped against a corner, her breath shallow and streams of sweat trailing down her face.

"You look sick," Peter said.

Wanda didn't reply, she just shifted on her bed. Frowning and deciding not to reply. Deciding against his better judgement Peter sat down, in front of the cell and just waited. He was there for a good hour before Wanda finally spoke up.

"What is it that you want?" she asked, her voice raw.

Peter mulled over that question. No one had asked him what he had wanted in a long time. It wasn't something that mattered in the greater scheme of things. Hydra was going to make this world an orderly place, unite all the continents together under the banner of humanity, stop the petty wars and squabbles being fought. There would be rules, and there would be death, but there were already rules and death, rules and death without order. That was what Hydra wanted, a world where everyone united, banded together and brought order into chaos. It wasn't what he wanted.

"I want what Hydra wants," he replied back.

"If you've come here to lie to me you can leave," Wanda scoffed as she closed her eyes tiredly against the wall.

"You have that choice too, just stop fighting them. Vision hasn't come so he's probably never coming, so now you can be one of us," Peter said leaning in slightly.

"I'd rather die," Wanda spat.

"You say that… everyone says that, but in the end they all bend," Peter replied with a huff. "Why not just bend early and not have to suffer?"

"I will die before I bend boy. There is nothing that can force me to obey," she hissed, her body pushing away from the walls for the first time. "I answer to no master-"

Before Wanda could finish her sentence Peter felt his spider sense go off. He sprang to his feet, looking to the hallway to his left. Wanda eyed him with confusion until she felt the ground shake and dusty debri fall from the ceiling as the lights flickered. Peter felt the sharp pain in his head scream at him to run, and he knew death was coming for him… for them. He punched Wanda's prison glass. It cracked on his force, but his knuckles bled. He didn't waste a moment before punching again and again.

"What are you doing?" Wanda asked getting up.

"We need to go! Danger," Peter said before taking in a deep breath and punching the glass one last time. It shattered to the ground in front of him. Peter didn't have the time to think of the shards of glass sticking into his hand, he took Wanda by her waist and ran through the hallways, running away from the danger. Screams shouted from behind him.

"What's happening?" Wanda asked.

Her question was answered when a wall of water rushed in from behind them. Peter didn't bother guiding Wanda anymore, he roughly threw her onto his shoulder before sprinting as fast as he could, shooting his webs through the halls to propel him further. But the torrent behind him was inconsolable and unrelenting in speed and force. Peter knew he couldn't outrun this, that the pressure itself would knock them into who knows what and have them die before they even drowned. He was about to accept that fact when he heard Wanda scream. He spared a momentary glance past his shoulders to see Wanda with her arms stretched out, glowing red and holding the water at bay.

"I can't hold it for much longer. Where's the exit?" she asked.

"I don't know!"

"What do you mean you don't know?" Wanda shouted back.

"I mean, they don't tell agents where the exits are, we just get taken in and out of the facility with its assigned warden and even then, they put bags over our heads!"

"Think you idiot!" she screamed.

Peter ran for his life while he wracked his brain for anything. Suddenly it came to him.

"We need to get into the water now!"

"What the bloody hell is wrong with you?" Wanda screeched as Peter stopped and ran _towards_ the body of deadly water.

"Just hold the water for a second!"

Peter put Wanda down before shooting a web at the ceiling above him. He then nodded at Wanda and she looked back at him like he was crazy. Peter held her by her waist tightly as he dug his feet in preparation. Wanda's powers blinked off.

The torrent came crashing on them.

Nothing could have prepared him for the force that hit him. In a second he was swept from the ground, his arm snapping with the force as it clung desperately to the webs. Once the initial surge had passed Peter allowed himself to let go. He still clung onto Wanda as they swam through the submerged facility. Peter swam as quickly as he could to the Wardens room, but with every second he could feel the timer tick so closely to his drowning. He let go of Wanda once he entered the warden's room. He pushed through the controls and found the one. It was a key for sector B. That was only a few hundred metres from this room. They could make it!

Peter swam to the top of the room gasping for breath and Wanda followed him. She huffed for a minute, watching with horror as the water rose steadily. They only had about a few inches before the room was fully submerged.

"Wanda listen to me carefully," Peter began quickly. "There's going to be a valve there, but I'll need to plug in the override in the system before that's allowed to be opened. I'll need you to shut the door behind us manually while I do that."

Wanda didn't have time to question exactly why she was doing that before she was forced to take a deep breath as the room was fully submerged. Instead she swam down and nodded. Spider was her best chance at getting out of this. She followed him into the room and exerted whatever was left of our powers to close the pressurized metal doors. Peter didn't waste time swimming towards the control panel. Once the doors were sealed the room would be authorized to open the valve. He inserted the key and watched with relief as the red light turned green and the valve twisted. Peter swam up to it and twisted the rest. Mouth opening for a split second, enough for him to lose the last of his breath. Peter groaned as he exerted his muscles and pulled the valve open.

He swam out to see about a few hundred meters of water above him. Wanda grabbed him by his arm and used her powers to propel them up. It was a life saver considering he had gulped in a large amount of water on his way up. Peter gasped and coughed as he broke the surface. Wanda coughed besides him, wading the water. Peter finally looked around and realised they were in the ocean, and then he looked up to see Ironman.

* * *

**Spiderman's always the pinnacle of the everyday hero and I love it, but it got me asking the question, would he be a hero if he were put in a situation like this? I like exploring the idea of a hero. I mean he killed a man without hesitating to save his own hide, but when it came down to it, he risked his life to save Wanda's. Does that make him a hero or a villain? I'm sorry if it's out of character for the comic or even movie Peter Parker. I understand that this Peter is vastly different, then again this is a Peter who grew up in Hydra, so a part of him would have acclimatised to their orders. What I'm failing to try and say is that this is nothing like the comic Peter. So please give me your thoughts. Whether you liked it or didn't. Feedback is appreciated.**

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Reviews

Vexel- Thanks for the review and for following! This is going to take a turn for the worse soon enough!

Archangel Writings- Thanks for leaving a review! Yup I think Peter did a pretty good job getting Wanda out of there!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

* * *

Tony helped get Wanda onto the freight plane. He gave the soaked girl a hug before slapping magnetic cuffs to her wrist. She looked at him in disbelief.

"Did you seriously just do that?" she asked angrily.

"National convict and all remember. It's part of the protocol," Tony said, putting a thumb on it and overriding the cuffs holding capacity.

Wanda sent him a curious look, the anger from before fading. Tony didn't want to hold her, not really, not anymore. Maybe once, before when he was angry at the world, at Steve, he might have, but he was past all that. Anger grew tired in his old bones. He noted the soldiers pushing a boy, because that was what he was- a boy- through the hanger bay. The kid didn't look frightened at first glance, but Tony knew the look of a man pretending. He ignored Wanda in favour of walking over to the teen.

"Why do you have the kid in cuffs?" Tony asked.

He received his answer when the teen was turned around. Tony noted the black tactical gear, the wiry muscles of a fighter, eyes that had grown hard from life, and most of all he noted the Hydra symbol plastered boldly in the middle of his chest.

"He fits the description of a Hydra operative named Spider. He's assassinated several political and economic authorities," the soldier informed Tony.

Tony tilted his head in disbelief. "A tiny thing like him? Is this true kid?"

The 'boy' held his head up before speaking. "It's true."

"Sir," the solider said nodding before he grabbed the teens arms and jerked him away.

Tony turned to Wanda who had walked up behind him. He hoped she realised that he didn't intend on keeping her prisoner. Vision wouldn't allow it anyway, but Tony wasn't looking for an angry witch.

"Red suits you by the way," he commented.

"I won't tell Natasha you said that," Wanda replied dryly.

"So what exactly was it that you were doing in a Hydra base?" Tony asked, turning to look at her.

"You didn't know I was in there?" Wanda asked.

"If I did would I have flooded a whole base under the ocean?" Tony scoffed.

"Then Vision does not know where I am. He would be here now," Wanda muttered, her voice shaking slightly.

"I'm sure he's fine. Vision is strong," Tony said.

Tony nearly let out a groan of annoyance when Wanda gave him _that _look. She was as stubborn as the lot of them, and if she wanted to search for Vision nothing in this world could change her mind. Maybe that was why they didn't last very long as a team. He brushed the thought away.

"Well come on then, make it look convincing," he sighed.

In one swift move Wanda broke her cuffs and shot Tony down the plane. He crashed into a wall and felt the impact settle down, sending a dull ache through his back. Before he could come out of it Wanda had rushed out of the plane. Tony pulled himself up and mumbled a curse before the plane burst out into chaos. A squad leader gave out orders to retrieve Wanda again, but Tony moved towards the broken exit.

"You are not fitted to take on Maximoff right now. We have a Hydra operative, and our priority is to get him to a secure location," Tony said holding back the men.

They stilled but otherwise nodded. Despite not being under his direct authority, they held a good enough respect towards him to listen when it mattered. Tony was grateful for that at least. Recently it had begun feeling like everyone was against him. At least for now he could continue fighting. That's all that was left for him.

* * *

"You don't look like an assassin," Tony said leaning on his chair.

"What does an assassin look like?" Peter asked back curiously.

"I don't know, a bit older, with some scars and a menacing look. What are you 12?"

Peter mulled over that. How old was he again? He tried to think about it, count his years, but nothing came to mind so he just shrugged.

"You don't know?" Tony asked in surprise.

"Is it important?" he sighed, before deciding to humour the man. "Tell me what year it is."

"It's 2019."

"Then I'm 15," Peter answered.

"I would say you could be protected considering you're underage, but with matters of national importance and Hydra, you're currently protected by nothing."

The Avenger was right. Peter knew he was screwed. Not just by the enemies who had captured him, but by Hydra themselves. He used to joke about dying and getting it over with, but he felt scared now. He didn't dwell on it, but he always remembered the chip in his neck. One command and he would die. He was always aware that if he had never committed a mistake, he would surely die from some idiot accidently pressing the trigger somewhere far away from him, in some damp compound he probably had never visited. The thought always sent him into a pit of worry. To die for no cause was… unimaginable.

"You're threatening me and yet here I am, in a cell, not fitted with torture devices; just a cell… having a conversation with you," Peter replied unable to hide his confusion.

"You thought I was going to torture you for information?" Tony scoffed. "I don't hurt kids, but even if I did, I wouldn't torture you. I'm not authorised to carry out a physical investigation. I'm a negotiator kid, that's what I'm doing with you; negotiating."

"On what terms? You have the advantage clearly? What could I possibly have that threatens you?" Peter asked.

"A whole number of things, mainly information, but let's be real. What I really want is for all of this to go down smoothly, so we can find a conclusion to the Hydra debacle and go home to a nice dinner. No need for things to get bloody," Tony replied, crossing his legs and leaning in.

Peter sighed and leant his neck back. This was his childhood hero. He remembered dressing up as Ironman as a kid, shooting his 'repulsers' at evil alien invaders. He remembered how he had idolised this man who had saved all of New York; who was rich, famous, and _indestructible. _He hadn't added naïve on that list before, but then again, he had been a child too.

"You think if I give up information, that your men can go in and raid some Hydra bases and then bring us down?" Peter scoffed. "Hydra isn't just a group of people, it's an idea, and the moment you decide to kill an idea, is the moment you give up that freedom you seem to proclaim to love so much… then again you never stood for freedom, did you?"

He had hit a nerve. Peter could see it, the way Tony's hands clenched together, his previously aloof demeanour suddenly a little tighter. The man could keep it together well enough, but it didn't fool him, not when he wasn't in a white room, not when he wasn't numb and distracted.

"You're right, I never stood for freedom. I stand for accountability. What I did- what I _do _is for people with power to stand accountable for their actions. It doesn't matter what we call ourselves, it's what we do that matters. What have you done boy?" Tony asked.

Peter paused. He had done lots of things. He had done horrible things for people who had kidnapped him, and ripped him open, and experimented on him. They hadn't wiped his memories like they had for the Winter Solider, they didn't need to. Peter would obey, and yet here he was about to die, and just… _obey_? What was the point? Once Hydra found out he was under UN custody he would be immediately terminated. What was the point of everything he had ever done?

"I've murdered families Ironman, ripped husbands away from wives, mothers away from children, but I did all of it because I had to. But just yesterday I shot a man in the head and I… I hate myself because it wasn't necessary," Peter choked. "He didn't have to die."

"No one had to die," Tony shot back.

Peter broke into a terrible laughter. "Oh god, you're right. It was all for nothing… all those years fighting and here I am in a cell with you, and that's it. That's all there was for me. No white walls, nothing to numb me or distract me. I guess I deserve it."

Tony lunged forward and opened the teen's mouth. Peter didn't resist, just let the man investigate it. He would have put his hands up in a placating gesture, but it was cuffed with a metal casing up to his wrist and bound to the table.

"No cyanide pill here kid. How exactly are you going to die?" Tony asked sternly.

"Why would they give me the kill switch? They haven't brainwashed me… not entirely," Peter said with a shrug.

"You didn't answer the question!"

"I don't know, it's probably in some pencil pushers hands up in headquarters wherever that is," Peter replied with a heavy sigh. "Better throw out the torturing equipment though, there's nothing much I can tell you. I was a hitman basically. I was just there to be an experimental basis for a new form of Hydra solider, one with increased ability; the proportional strength of a spider. You actually caught me on a promotion. I went from being a patient to an operative just a day ago."

Peter could almost hear Kurt telling him to shut up while he whacked his head with his violin bow. The thought of Kurt made him feel ill. He was surely dead now. The water had destroyed the whole base. He could smell the Iodoform, the metal, the pine trees… his thoughts wavered. He imagined a myriad of different reactions from Tony Stark, but a mixture of anger and pity in those brown eyes of his wasn't one of them.

"You didn't have to become one of them kid. You were given a choice," Tony said. 'The winter solider wasn't,' was left unsaid.

There was nothing to refute. He was given a choice, become a mindless drone, brainwashed and turned into a drone, or remember everything and commit horrible acts on his own account. Peter had chosen the latter and quickly. There was nothing more terrifying than losing himself.

_You've lost me already._

Not completely. He hadn't lost him completely. Peter clung to that, clung to his name, his real name. That was all he had left of himself and that was going to be gone soon too. Then no one would remember him. Maybe Tommy the electrician would but that wasn't certain.

"I chose what I did because I had to," Peter said tiredly. "It's going to end soon, so can I get a last request?"

Tony nodded and Peter braced himself. He remembered things he didn't want to think about, things he felt compelled to forget entirely, because the thought of them made him feel emotions he didn't want to remember. He wouldn't have to feel anything soon enough, so he felt compelled to acknowledge these emotions one last time before the final nothing.

"I had a family once, back in Queens. My parents, they died, but I had an aunt and uncle. I don't know if they're alive or not, but could you tell them that Peter remembers. He never forgot."

Peter almost held his breath, waiting for Tony Stark to laugh at him and wonder why his final words were important enough to be relayed, but the man nodded and Peter found himself believing that Tony would indeed send it. Not five minutes in a room with the man and he already knew what kind of person he was, idealistic and hopeful if not pragmatic. Peter had never seen such a contradiction. Pragmatism and idealism hand in hand.

"Are you sure there isn't a way for you to relay that to them yourself?" Tony asked.

Peter shook his head. "Not unless you can find my kill switch by tomorrow. By the way that's how much time you have to draw my blood for more answers."

"You've said enough, I'll tell the men you had your mind wiped of all Hydra base locations. You'll be relocated to a better cell."

"Are you sure… none of my victims got that sort of vip treatment," Peter joked despite his voice shaking.

"I'm not you."

With those stabbing words the billionaire left the room leaving Peter alone once more.

* * *

**Hahahaa sorry for the freaking long update times. I can't help it. I'm soo slow at writing XD I write a chapter and I scrap it several times before settling down on one. Thanks to everyone who favorited or reviewed **

**Reviews**

**Pipping Strange- Thanks for the review! It's great… for now (evil laughs)**

**Archangel Writings- Yup but is he going to be free for long? :'D **


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